O Christmas Tree

I love Christmas. Not necessarily for the presents (although I must say I am looking forward to my mother's gift to me this year - Korean spa day here I come!), but for everything that comes with it. Of all the traditions of this holiday, my favorite has to be a Christmas tree.

Dan has reluctantly yielded over the years to my love of a Christmas tree (he is just not a fan of Christmas - but now with kids, he is trying to enjoy it more). I am not talking about any old Christmas tree either. I am talking about a floor to ceiling tree and it has to be a Noble Fir. In my opinion, the Noble Fir is the most fragrant and beautiful. No other tree will do. Sadly, they tend to be the most expensive tree - much to Dan's chagrin.

We decorated our tree the other night with the kids. I have boxes of ornaments - some old and some new. Some that I grew up with and some I have collected over the years. Our tree is reminiscent of my childhood trees - not just because I have some of the old ornaments - but because it is decorated with everything. Well, everything except tinsel - tinsel is never okay. My mother has always hated it and steered us away from its use when we were younger - I guess the preference stuck. To me it is almost like gum chewing - better when not seen.

I like to take each ornament from its box and thoughtfully examine it - pondering its story. There is the Jeanne ornament - that is part of a set, although my sister Caroline has her ornament and the one of our childhood cat. Lauren fell immediately in love with this one and grabbed it from the tree the second it was hung. Unfortunately - for her - this is an ornament I would miss greatly if lost so I had to pry from her hands only to place higher up on the tree. Needless to say - tree trimming is lost on Lauren. To her it is just a toy rack.

I also have ornaments (I use the term loosely here, because they hardly resemble that anymore) that I place solely on the tree for sentimental value. There is a blue construction paper angel with gold and red glitter - I made in Sunday school as a child - that has been decapitated. It does not hang anymore - I just lay it on a branch (the head next to its body). There is also a snowflake (?) that my sister, Caroline, made that makes an annual appearance as well. It's half the size of its original state, but I cannot seem to decorate the tree without it.

I can hardly wait for the kids to make special items for our tree. For me, it just makes the tree. The tree becomes an alter for family stories and memories.

This year however, tree decorating was exciting for Kelan, traumatic for Lauren, existent for Dan and rushed for me. I just hold out hope that the ornaments will stay on the tree and pray that Kelan and Lauren do not realize there is a bucket of water under it.

Is it Me? Part 2 Cont.

My prescription still has not been filled. Seriously. My doctor's nurse called me around 2:30pm to say that she was faxing back the approval and that I could go and pick up my prescription today. Thank god. I had an appointment to see my chiropractor at 5pm, so I thought I would swing by my pharmacy on the way to the appointment.

I load the kids in the car and drive to Walgreens. I have to go inside (although they do have a drive through) because - adding insult to injury - that time of the month started today and I am out of tampons. Lovely. I am walking - at a 45 degree angle at this point - to the back of the pharmacy, wrangling two kids that just want to run and grab everything. I squat on the floor (because it hurts to stand) waiting for our turn at the counter. Kelan and Lauren have decided to rearrange the over the counter medicine display - I let them. Soon Kelan notices that I am holding a box of tampons. The conversation goes like this: Are those tampons? Yes. We need more tampons? Yes. We have no tampons at home? Yes. We need more tampons at home? Yes. I am now hysterically laughing and crying because not only is this funny in itself, there are about 5 people behind me in line (women and men) who can hear - and are laughing. In fact, the woman behind me said that her day was now not so bad.

I get to the front of the line only to hear that they are still waiting for approval from my doctor. You have GOT to be kidding me. I leave the store - sans tampons - and struggle to put both kids back into the car. A wasted trip on my poor back. I call Dan, tears streaming down my face, just to hear that he will be home soon and will take care of me.

The chiropractor helps, but I still am in pain. I come home and start dinner (I would have gone to McDonald's for Happy Meals, but I did that yesterday...). Dan comes home and is ready to go to Walgreens - I call to make sure that my beloved vicodin is ready. It is not. It is 6:30pm. I have had it. It has been two full days. I call the on call doctor. She realizes that the approval was faxed to the wrong pharmacy. She apologizes and says she will fix the problem. Unbelievable. Is it me?

Is it Me? Part 2

It's happened again. My doctor's office staff has proven that they are inept (see Is it Me?). Basic requests seemed to get lost in translation. Follow through has no meaning. No wonder people today have less and less patience - inadequate customer service happens everywhere.

My back went out on Sunday morning so I went into my own personal crisis mode (please note that my doctor is fully aware of my crisis plan). This entails an ibuprofen and vicodin drug therapy. Massage and chiropractic work (sometimes a rolfer is added to the payroll depending on the severity of the "outage" and on personal finances - rolfers are not cheap and insurance does not cover visits). Hot Epsom salt baths, icing and stretching. LOTS of stretching.

I realized that I only had several vicodin pills left so I proactively contacted my pharmacy on Sunday so they could fax a refill request to my doctor's office where it would be waiting on Monday morning. I figured I had enough to get me through the next 24 hours and by then, my doctor's office would have gone through their prescription requests and given the okay for the refill. This was not to be.

On Monday mid day I contacted my pharmacy to check the status of my refill. They had not heard back from my doctor's office. I decided to give them a little more time to get through their refill requests so I waited a couple of more hours. By now I had run out of vicodin and my back was feeling worse than it did on Sunday (it had moved into full spasm from the initial injury).

I contacted my pharmacy again and they suggested I contact my doctor's office to make sure they received the faxed refill request (they would also fax another one). I did as they suggested and spoke with a very nice woman who took down my message to give to my doctor/nurse). I thought we were now headed in the right direction. Sadly I was mistaken. I never got my prescription refilled on Monday. That night I toughed it out with ibuprofen and Tylenol. For those of you who have never had your back go out, you may not understand the level of pain and may think I am being over dramatic - it is not like I did not have the ibuprofen and Tylenol... But I would like you to consider what it would feel like to be hit by a Mack truck and be given a vitamin to help ease the pain. You with me now?

I called my pharmacy again this morning. Nothing. However I did receive a message from my doctor's nurse. She said that I need to contact my pharmacy so they could fax over a refill request. That the procedure for prescription refills was to contact your pharmacy - not the doctor. Excuse me? That is what I fucking did fucking yesterday that apparently was fucking ignored. Maybe the nice woman who took down my message got it wrong - but I had explained that my pharmacy had indeed faxed over a request. Maybe the nurse did not understand the message or did not read the whole thing (man they need to get voicemail over there)? Or maybe my pharmacy did not actually fax over the refill request (twice) like they said.

It must be said that I have actually maintained self control. I have not lost my temper (thank goodness) with the pharmacy or doctor's office (although I am silently cursing their existence). Most importantly, I have maintained my composure with Kelan and Lauren - no sick days for mom (note that Dan did come home an hour early yesterday so I could go and get a massage, and is contemplating cancelling his business trip so he can take care of me and the kids - I have the best husband!).

I put in another call to the pharmacy to have them fax over a third request. Additionally I called my doctor's office - again - to let them know that I do understand the prescription refill procedure, and that I had only left a message alerting them to the fax because the pharmacy had not heard back from them. Is it me?